I squared my shoulders and forced my words past a lump of disappointment in my throat. “Yes, sir. I do. With all that is within me, it is what I aspire to be.”
He left off playing with the catapult and leaned back in his chair. He raised his bushy grey eyebrows and sighed with resignation. “Well, then. I suppose that is what you will do your best to be. I hope you find it to your liking, Cadet. I hope the cavalla does not lose you when you discover that the limits of such a role are greater than you thought them to be.”
“I am cavalla, sir. Born and bred.”
He nodded gravely. “I suppose that you are. Remember something for me. Remember that your raft passed through the rapids with its cargo because you were wise enough to engineer some flexibility into your structure. Do the same with yourself and your ambitions, Cadet. Leave room for them to bend without breaking you. Dismissed.”
And with that he sent me out into the fading afternoon to ponder his offer. I could not decide if his words had been complimentary or a warning to curb my ambitions. I didn’t discuss it with any of my fellows.
After the first two months of classes, those of us who had performed well were allowed a day of liberty every second Sevday to visit relatives. It was a welcome change from the previous ‘holidays’ we’d been offered in our schedule. All the first-years had been given a Sevday of leave once before, but it was a sham. We’d been ordered to spend our ‘free day’ in attending a musical performance given by Lady Midowne’s Historical Society. A score of noble ladies and their daughters sang original compositions that told of significant events in Gernian history. It was interminable, with extravagant costumes and sets and mediocre singing that scarcely reached our ears. At the end, we dutifully applauded, and only then learned that first-years were not even allowed to attend the tea that followed it to mingle with the young ladies. Instead, we were sent back to our dormitory to ‘enjoy the rest of our day of freedom’.
I was fortunate among the new nobles’ sons in that I had nearby relatives willing to welcome me to their home for my free afternoons. Trist, Gord, and myself were the only ones who could count on a dinner invitation. The others most often stayed in the dormitory. My uncle always sent a carriage to pick me up, and provided me with a hearty meal at his home. I came to know my aunt and my cousins Hotorn and Purissa a bit better. Aunt Daraleen did not lose her stiffness toward me, but I perceived, as my father had observed, that there was nothing personal in it. As long as I did not presume on our relationship, she felt unthreatened by me. I did enjoy the long talks with my uncle in his study, in which he often asked how my lessons progressed and discussed language and military history with me. Sometimes Hotorn, his heir son, joined us there. He was older than me by four years, and enrolled in a university. Sometimes he spoke of his studies there, and I confess I somewhat envied that literature and music and art were amongst his subjects. My younger girl cousin, Purissa, took enough of a fancy to me that with her governess’ help, she would bake little cakes and sweets, and pack up a basket of such treats for me to take back to my friends at the Academy. But Epiny, my older girl cousin, was always absent whenever I visited. In some ways, this was a relief for me, for my first impression of her had been a rather strange one.
Thinking to make polite conversation at the table one afternoon, I once observed to my aunt, “It is unfortunate that Epiny is always occupied elsewhere when I visit.”
My aunt gave me a look even cooler than her usual formal regard and said, “Unfortunate? I do not follow your thought. Why would you think it unfortunate?”
I instantly felt unsure of myself, as if I were riding a horse over unsound ground. “Why, I meant only that it was unfortunate for me, of course. I am certain that I would enjoy her company and the opportunity to get to know her.” I thought those words would smooth whatever had ruffled my aunt’s feathers, but I was wrong.
She stirred her cup of tea for a moment and then smiled at me without warmth. “Oh, I am certain that you are wrong about that, Nevare. You and my daughter would have absolutely nothing in common, and could scarcely be expected to enjoy one another’s company. Epiny is quite a sensitive young woman, and very refined. I cannot imagine what you might find to talk about. I am sure it would be very awkward for both of you.”
I lowered my eyes to my plate and murmured, “Of course, I am sure you are correct.” I would have done anything in the world to cool the blood that flushed my face at her smoothly worded rebuke. Obviously, she thought I had been forward to hint that I might speak to her daughter. Just as obviously, it was no accident of scheduling that Epiny was never present in her father’s home when I was. My aunt deliberately kept her daughter apart from my company. I belatedly realized that when I was their guest, I was always the sole guest. The next thought that rushed into my mind was that perhaps my uncle, too, considered me too socially inept to associate family friends. I was sharply reminded of how my own father had kept my mother and daughter away from Captain Vaxton when the rough old scout had come to call. Did my aunt see me in a similar way? Did my uncle?
As if he could hear my thoughts, my uncle sought to disarm the hurt that hovered. “In some ways I agree with your aunt, Nevare, but not for the reasons you might think. Although by her years Epiny is almost grown, she behaves so childishly that I have not thought to expect the social duties of a young woman from her yet.” He drew breath to say something more, but my aunt cut in, outraged.
“Childishly! Childishly? She is a sensitive, Sefert! Guide Porilet, the queen’s own medium, has seen great potential in her. But she must be allowed to unfold slowly, as a blossom opens to the sun or a butterfly opens her new wings, damp with the waters of her birth. Force her too soon into the worldly duties a woman must bear and that is what she will become: a worldly woman, shallow and cow-like, bearing the yoke of insensitive men! Her gifts will be lost, not just to her, but also to all of us. Childish! You do not see the difference between innocence and spiritual awakening and babyish behaviour.” Her voice seemed to get shriller with every word.
My uncle abruptly pushed his chair back from the table. “I am sure I do not see the difference between this ‘sensitivity’ and childish behaviour. And thus I am sure that Nevare cannot, either. So, I think I shall spare him exposure to it. Nevare, will you join me in my study?”
I was mortified. I had precipitated this barely-concealed quarrel between them. I stood as gracefully as I could and bowed to Lady Birvelle as I left her table. She turned her gaze away from me, and gave a disdainful sniff as I left. It was the most awkward moment I’d ever endured in my young life.
Once we reached the study, I stammered out an uncomfortable apology to my uncle, but he shrugged his shoulders as he took out a cigar. “If something you did hadn’t offended her, she would have found something in my behaviour to offend. Epiny has begged, several times, to be allowed to see you. I still think it may be arranged, despite the busy schedule her mother contrives for her. But I warn you, she is exactly as I said: a girl with a child’s ways. Sometimes I think Purissa is more mature than her older sister.”
I could not very well tell him that my expressed desire for my cousin’s company had been a polite bit of conversation rather than a sincere desire to see her. In truth, Epiny had impressed me as flighty and foolish. I felt no need to spend time with her. But all I could do was smile and assure my uncle that I would look forward to it, while ardently hoping that it would not come to be and that I could thus avoid any conflict with my aunt.